Melencholia
by Mistress Slytherin
Summary: What if the war ended differently? How much could one event change history and the people that write it? Major spoilers ahead beware!


**Well, I had planned on working on book 4 a bit more but I had a bit of writers block so I decided to write this instead, I've been working on it for a few hours now- er...wow is it really six o' clock? shit... oh well I feel pretty accomplished with this piece if not a bit hungry...starving actually...hope you like it and expect to cry! Oh and this is about a dom/sub relationship, however there is actually no sex in it...bizarre really...its more of a touching story that could I suppose become more if someone wanted to pick up where I left off or if I find it in a few years and decide to add a one-shot to it. I don't know, it was written on a whim so no promises here ok? Alright then, food...**

**Mistress Slytherin**

When Severus Snape broke consciousness two months after the war's end it was with a scream so spectacular that it echoed throughout the entirety of Hogwarts. Pitch black eyes snapped wide and his body jumped and writhed with the agony of realization before Pomfrey could dose him with a calming drought. He wasn't supposed to be able to scream Harry realized belatedly as he stared at the scene with unblinking eyes from his own hospital cot. Just like he wasn't supposed to be aware of that scream he thought a moment later. The war… it had taken _everything_ from him. This last year, the search for the Horcruxes, carrying on even when Hermione fell, refusing to break even as the long stretches of silence built between himself and Ron- he shivered in his mind.

He floated…and floated away.

In the safety of his mind where Ron and Hermione still waited for him.

He had no war to fight, no reason to struggle for reality.

His body gave a long sigh.

It was several hours before he resurfaced, drawn by Poppy's hushed words. Snape was staring at him eyes tired and dazed as he scratched idly at the bandages wrapped around his neck.

"He and his friends were captured just before Christmas, do you remember?" She asked him gently. Harry felt his eyes slip closed and open again in remembrance. They'd had a plan, a good one, but Womtail the little rat had found them and was listening in, he betrayed Harry just like he'd betrayed his parents. They walked right into a trap. He found out later that they'd been there for three weeks.

The Order thought that they could give him a chance to escape if they distracted Voldemort- instead they only prolonged the torment. The agony he, Hermione and Ron had faced during those three weeks seemed so much worse when the endless hours blended into endless days that felt like years. He could remember when they broke Hermione, he'd always thought that she would be the strongest of them, but beating after beating, rape after rape, the whispered words ugly, worthless. The assurances that she would never be loved again after this- and then, when she needed him most, Ron couldn't look at her, he just couldn't. Harry had been the one to watch her break, even as he scrabbled at the floor with his own bloodied and broken nails he'd been there.

He'd reached out and grasped her hand in his despite the reach and wept with her as brilliance turned to madness and calm to wildness. It was Hermione that freed them in the end; her madness unleashed her magic in a heady pulse that bubbled out in a warp of power that was visible as it knocked their tormentors back. She'd turned to him then fire lingering in her gaze and smiled a wide terrifying smile before letting go of his hand. Harry couldn't remember exactly how he'd done it, crawled to Ron, spared enough magic to break him free before calling Dobby.

He couldn't remember much after that, he'd developed an infection, a fever that nearly killed him. He remembered that Snape had been there at some point though, it was only briefly but it had given Harry something to think about other than what had happened. Dobby had preserved Hermione's body for them while he was there, and in the long hours of recovery Harry had stared at her. She was beautiful in death and for a while in his fever hazed mind he could forget that she was dead.

He caught Ron staring at him more than once when he managed to get out of bed and try to wake her up. They had to go, had to get the Horcruxes…then they could live a normal life, the three of them in a flat- Hermione and Ron would get married and have kids, they would all grow old together…

That was when he realized that he was losing it too.

When they'd been patched up enough to continue the first thing they'd done was to take Hermione to Hogwarts and burry her. Snape had seen them there he was certain, the man had been standing in Dumbledore's office watching them with an unreadable gaze as they risked further imprisonment just to burry their friend. After that Harry had all but shoved the madness and grief into a small corner of his mind. Ron had only watched silently a solid rock of sorrow and strength. There had been times when Harry had woken up screaming crying and begging, Ron had been there, holding him and crying with him always silent in his grief. As days turned to weeks they became more, comforting each other physically as their search became driven and desperate.

Death followed them wherever they went and Ron had to tell him to get back up and keep moving, Ron had to tell him to get dressed, to bathe, to eat- they found comfort in the new routine. Ron had something to control in this uncontrollable situation, Harry had simple tasks to focus on while the majority of his mind worked over the location of the next Horcrux and struggled against the silence that Hermione left.

It was three months later that they found themselves destroying Hufflepuffs goblet and breaking nearly a thousand ministry rules by flying a dragon all the way to Hogwarts. They were injured, exhausted, and starving when they'd arrived at Hogwarts. McGonagall had been the one to meet them, shaking her head at Harry for bringing a dragon to school. Harry had half-expected her to take house points.

"Harry run." Ron had said sternly his eyes alight with renewed fire. Harry had done as he was told without question. Eventually they'd come to find the others. Harry had nearly broken when faced with so many expectant faces waiting for orders he didn't know how to give, depending on him to know what to do, to save them. Ron's hand settled on his shoulder was the only thing that kept him there. Harry still wasn't certain how he'd managed to describe the situation to them, he only knew that Voldemort was on his way and they still had two Horcurxes to destroy.

"Well I don't know much about what happened Severus, but whatever they were looking for they found." Poppy continued drawing Harry from his memories. "The whole school was in an uproar you remember. He-who-must-not-be-named called us all to the Great Hall and demanded that we give Potter up, no one would though." She said smugly. Snape opened his mouth his expression tired.

"I needed to give him something." He said but Poppy frowned before taking a seat beside Snape.

"Severus your vocal cords are in tatters, the venom destroyed them." She said softly. "I'm afraid that there was no way to save them." Harry frowned. How could that be? Harry could hear him just fine! Snape paled drastically before nodding and lifting a shaky hand to his throat.

"At any rate, after you left he-who-must-not-be-named announced that if Harry didn't turn himself in he would declare war on the school." Harry shivered. He could remember the hopelessness of the situation. He could remember the Carrows dragging Ginny and Dean Thomas to the front of the Hall. The professors had attacked then, ready to defend their students, but they were too late. Harry could still remember her screams and the way Ron's pale face had frozen over mid-spell. There was a violence in Ron then, Harry had never expected it, Ron had always been a bit of a loose cannon, but he'd never ever resorted to the sort of violence he'd unleashed that day. The Carrows didn't stand a chance; they were broken smears on the wall before he could break the shock of losing Ginny.

He'd sat there on the ground cradling her head in his lap and watched Ron become something vicious and broken. The students collectively took a step back when Ron had finished, and the professors lifted their wands warily, but Ron ignored them. He could only see Harry and Ginny.

"Harry, we've got a job to do." He said his chest heaving as he breathed deep ragged breaths. His pale face was smattered with blood as he approached Harry. "Get up." He ordered quietly. Harry gently settled Ginny's head on the floor closed her eyes and stood. With trembling hands he tugged his sleeve over his palms and lifted it brushing some of the blood off of Ron's gaunt face. Some of the madness slid away from Ron's gaze and Harry had only a moment to notice just how tall Ron had gotten before he was being drawn into his embrace pulled against a broad chest. He could feel Ron's ribs protruding out, smell the ashes and blood on his robes and feel the slight tremors in his arms. But when Ron released him he was a solid rock of sorrow and determined fury.

"Lets' go." He'd said softly. Harry could only follow at that point. A whirlwind of colors and shapes as they rushed to find Nagini only to find Snape and Voldemort in the shrieking shack. Ron's quiet "Stay" was the only thing that kept Harry where he was watching the events unfolded, listening to Snape's clever lies. And then Voldemort betrayed Snape, Nagini attacked and Ron's hold surrounded him as they listened to Snape gurgle and writhe until Voldemort was gone.

Harry wasn't about to let Snape die on him, no, the man had too many questions to answer. Snape took the anti-venom and gave him his memories, but Harry wouldn't let him die so easily. He called for Fawks it was the only thing he could think of. It wasn't till later, after Harry had seen Snape's memories that he understood why Fawks had cried without prompting. Snape was the most loyal of them all in the end…

"Ronald Weasley wouldn't let him go to the forest." Poppy was saying softly dragging Harry to the presence once more. "They had a great row about it as we were preparing our defenses. Harry wouldn't listen though, not until Ronald _ordered_ him to stay." Harry could see the question light in Snapes eyes.

"I don't know." Poppy said shrugging her shoulders. "It's anyone's guess what went on between them while they were gone, but Harry listened. He sat right there where he'd been standing and stayed there until the attack." She said shaking her head. Harry felt his chest tighten as he thought of it.

The wards had been spectacular, Hogwarts defenses were impenetrable- until that is Voldemort decided to use the elder wand. Ron hadn't let him up until the enemy was in sight. "Don't you dare die on me Harry Potter." He muttered before that familiar light filled his eyes and the battle raged. Ron was merciless; he killed just as violently as the death eaters did and fought with an energy Harry wouldn't have thought existed in him. Harry fought with him; always in the same space even if they were far apart he kept Ron in sight. Everything he'd ever learned about dueling went into the battle, every moment of pain and sadness turned to rage and violence. It was a sea of blood and pain, he just kept going. His fingers seemed to form a vice grip around the handle of his wand and his legs and arms became numb. Spell after spell curse after curse, looking for Ron making certain that he was there before continuing.

Occasionally he felt a curse hit him breaking something, splitting his skin, agony, it was nothing though when compared to true torture. He'd learned enough healing charms over the last few weeks to patch himself up nicely whenever he had a spare moment. He didn't know how many potions he'd taken just to get himself through the battle.

"And then Ronald took a blasting curse to the chest." Poppy said softly Harry literally flinched and let out a whimper.

The smell of burnt flesh,

The realization that he couldn't see Ron any more when he turned to look for him,

And Bellatrix's strange hysterical laughter.

There was a hole in Ron's chest and his eyes were suddenly very, _very_ empty.

_Get up Harry; we have a job to do._

Harry couldn't remember much after that, just a sea of blood and screams.

Bella's face twisting before her head exploded coating him with gore.

Stumbling, always stumbling and so very lost.

Ron's voice kept him going though.

He killed and maimed and killed again, his own wounds were nothing, superficial in the wake of reality.

Ron was gone,

Hermione was gone,

Ginny,

Remus,

Tonks, Moody, Flitwick, the Patel twins, Fred, he stopped counting, stopped listening.

Nagini, no matter her protections was dead the instant Harry caught sight of her. He didn't have time to be cautious, madness was creeping in on him and he had a job to finish. When he and Voldemort faced off Harry was swaying unsteadily. He didn't have time for this man, this weak pathetic shell of a man that had taken everything, _everything_ from him. He shot the killing curse before Voldemort could open his mouth to speak. There was no mercy, no last words, just a green light and a swift death, nothingness, just like his parents.

"We should have kept a better eye on him after that." Poppy said with a sigh her gaze turning towards Harry who was lost in memories. "He saved us all, but in the wake of the battle we could only see our selves. It was Minerva that found him; the wards alert the headmaster or head mistress when a student tries to commit suicide." Harry hadn't tried, not really, it just seemed right. Ron had given it to him, Harry didn't know where he'd found such a thing and a part of him didn't _want _to know, but Ron had told him that if they were ever captured again that he would drink his and Harry knew without a doubt that if Ron drank his then so would he.

"He's still on the mend, nearly melted from the inside out. Hasn't spoken a word since then either, I'd send him to Saint Mungos but they're only accepting dire cases right now and-"

"Madam Pomfey!" Harry turned his head slowly and watched the bustle as a student was rushed in and Poppy darted off. When the privacy curtain was drawn Harry turned back to Snape. They shared a long look.

"You're not wearing your glasses." Snape noted before frowning and lifting his hand to his neck. Harry's opened his own mouth and no sound came out.

"When they re-grew them my vision was corrected." He smiled slightly at Snape's widened eyes.

"You can hear me?" He said. Yes, Harry could hear him clearly; the same dulcet tones that had once driven his temper now seemed to make just as much sense as anything else.

"Just as well as you can hear me." he mouthed silently. Snape frowned as if trying to figure it out before slowly nodding in understanding.

"I thought you were supposed to be mad?" Snape said quirking an eyebrow. Harry smiled thinly.

"I am most of the time." He said with a nod.

"But not all of the time?" Snape pressed. Harry could feel it creeping on the edges of his mind though, the fog, the bliss; Hermione and Ron were waiting for him. He didn't get to answer he was tugged into oblivion before he had the chance.

_Get up Harry; you've a job to do._

"-mum and dad are in a bad way though. Mum cries a lot and gets into fights with dad over stupid things like the color of the flowers their going to put out for Gin." The rough voice drew Harry out of his bliss though he didn't know how long it had been. He was in a wheelchair he realized after a moment, and he was wearing his black dress robes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd worn anything other than dirty, grimy Dudley castoffs or hospital gowns. It was George that was talking to him he realized. George was pale and gaunt, the spark had gone from his eyes and as he talked tears were running down his cheeks. He's wearing black too Harry realizes. Slowly he turns to where Snape is lying.

"Funeral." Snape says though Harry is the only one to hear it. George lets out a soft gasp.

"Harry?" He says hopefully. Harry turns slowly back to George and tries to say his name, to call out to him. Things barely make sense and yet he can remember everything clearly. Slowly he begins to piece things together. Funeral. He lifts his hand slowly surprised to find that he can do this and shakily brushes George's tears away. George crashes to his knees and falls to pieces before him sobbing into his lap hopelessly.

"Thank-you Harry! Thank-you!" George sobbed. Harry stares at him for a long time before turning to Snape who seems to understand his confusion.

"They were worried for you Potter; they see you as one of them lost to the war just like the others." He says softly. Harry nods slowly. He had to burry his friends- that is why George was here. Harry was a symbol of hope even now. But the familiar bitterness that accompanied that thought was not there, not for them, not for the Weasley's.

"Gah.." He winces at the sound that escaped from his mouth and George's head shoots up. Harry swallows painfully before speaking again his voice a mere whisper. "Get up George." He manages. George stares at him for a long moment hope and joy warring with desolation and the urge to crawl into a corner and cry.

"Well bless my soul…" Poppy is there too, she must have been there the whole time but Harry hasn't noticed her. She's dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and Harry glances at Snape who's rolling his eyes and muttering to himself. It draws a smile from him though. He wants to stand he realizes but somehow he knows that he can't not yet. George has something to focus on now though and Harry watches him rush about the room tucking blankets around his legs and combing his hair, chuckling in amusement when it refuses to be tamed. Eventually Harry raises his hand again, it feels like lead as he wraps his fingers around George's wrist and halts him.

"Let's go George." He whispers. George seems to shudder before nodding his head in determination and gripping the handles of the wheelchair. Harry doesn't remind George that he could have used magic; some part of him is telling him that George needs to focus on a task to get him through this. He watches idly as they roll down familiar hallways noting the patches of stone and mortar that seem newer, places where repair has already taken place. The halls are empty though, they bear signs of battle, a scorch mark here a blood stain there, he wonders of some of that was made by him- it probably was. The portraits are somber he realizes, they watch him with sad eyes as they make their way.

At one point Harry is able to look outside.

"We decided that Ron should be buried here." George said noticing his gaze. "It was only right after all. Gin and F-Fred will be buried on the family plot but- well it didn't seem right to separate the three of you." Harry watches the large crowd of people waiting on the lawn before looking up and nodding. George understands, it wouldn't be right to separate them, it would be like separating Fred and George- it wasn't right. "They were buried right after." He says softly. "But there wasn't time for proper funerals for anyone." George smiles slightly and helps him down the steps. "It'll be a busy week I'm afraid, we- that is every one who lost someone at Hogwarts, decided to take a break from it all. The ministry even sanctioned it, so that we could have a chance to mourn before we get back to rebuilding." The chilly breeze feels good on his face, the fresh air helps him focus and the bright green grass makes the many stares that turn to them bearable.

Molly Weasley is sobbing silently beside her husband, she looks so much thinner than he can ever remember seeing her, and Arthur looks tired and drawn. Bill and Fleur are there as well, they nod at him in silent acknowledgement and respect tear tracks etched in their cheeks. Charlie is trembling as they share a look. Harry hopes that his eyes show just how much Ron meant to him, how much they all owed Ron.

"Harry?" George's voice is shaking begging him for something a word, anything to keep him from shattering here. There are a few gasps when he turns and holds out his hand. He is tired, so very tired already, but he has to wake up, he has a job to do. George shudders slightly before grasping his hand gripping it tightly as the funeral begins it is long and there are parts of it where Harry can't focus, but he always comes back. When it's over Harry can't help but frown, he needed to do something. George is about to roll him away but his hand shoots out and stops him.

"Harry?" It's Molly Weasley this time, she is in agony and he can see it in her eyes. He looks back at Hermione and Ron's grave they were simple despite the sacrifices they'd both made. Harry knew in his mind that they were only bodies now, buried far below them, but Harry wouldn't let their sacrifices go unnoticed. His muscles seize up as he concentrates, it burns- everything burns, but he has to do this.

He stands.

The strain is nearly unbearable but he does it. He can feel his magic warming his muscles aiding him as he takes two agonizing steps forward and lifts his hands. He forces his voice to work, forces his magic to respond. He doesn't know where his wand is, he can't remember but he doesn't need it for this. He watches as the ground begins to shake and pebbles fly through the air.

There is no spell for what he is doing; he only knows that it's possible because he needs it to be. Slowly they form, Hermione's first, a statue of the girl he would always remember standing proud, chin lifted and expression portraying the determined and clever look that she always seemed to wear. She held books under her arm and had her wand tucked behind her ear while her other hand reached out holding Ron's hand as it formed. Ron too stood tall and proud, healthy as he could remember him and…smiling, as Harry hadn't seen him do since their capture. His broad chest and familiar gaze nearly made Harry falter. He is shaking now but he won't stop until it's finished. Under their statues where the gold stops and marble begins Harry fashions two silver plates.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley- Beloved son, brother, and friend. Here lies a hero with more courage than any hero before him. You are our strength, and your sacrifices will never be forgotten." George read his voice wavering. Molly began sobbing again as Harry panted and turned to the other plate.

"Hermione Jane Granger-" George hesitated his eyes widening. "Beloved daughter, Sister, friend and m-mother" He grit his teeth unable to say more as Harry continued to write.

"Oh Merlin…" Arthur whispered

"Here lies the smartest and _kindest_ witch of our age. Your compassion, bravery and loyalty is unrivaled. Your strength and the sacrifices you made will never be forgotten." Bill said softly.

"She vas pregnant?" Fleur whispered.

"Yes." Harry whispered as he fell into his wheel chair. He didn't have to tell them that they'd found out only because she miscarried during the torture.

"Then Ron…" Charlie whispered.

"I don't know." Harry whispered. "I don't know if it was him or _them_, but I know that she would have loved that baby." He said softly. "She wouldn't have been ashamed of it." He said with a nod. Everything hurts, he feels as if he's been stabbed a thousand times and his head is pulsing but as he looks at the two statues he knows it was worth it.

The rest of the day is a blur to him; he swims silently in and out of reality. At moments he returns to Ron and Hermione but they shake their heads now and send him back. George watches over him though, clinging to him like a lifeline as Fred is buried and sobbing with him when he realizes that he can mourn for Ginny now. Harry is hit again with the enormous hole that is left behind by the people that are now gone from him. The tears don't seem to stop, even when he's not aware of them.

There will be four more funerals tomorrow.

He is exhausted as George wheels him back to the infirmary, his eyes are red and puffy and he knows he must look a sight, but he can't help but laugh at the plaque that's been hung over his bed. George catches his gaze and grins a bit. "Pomfrey put it up when she realized Mungo's wouldn't take you."

"This hospital bed is reserved for Harry James Potter, the boy-who-will-indefinitely-find himself-in-danger." Poppy said striding in.

"I tried to get her to hang up the golden toilet seat too but she wouldn't have it." George said a flicker of humor in his gaze. Harry chortled tiredly and allowed George to lift him and settle him in bed. "Do you want me to stay?" George asked seriously. Harry shook his head slowly.

"Your family needs you." He said softly. George frowned and shook his head.

"You're family too Harry, you know that." He said softly. Harry smiled.

"I know, but I'll be fine, really- go home." He said with a nod. George nodded slowly and turned away leaving him to sink into his bed and listen to the echoing footsteps. Poppy took care of changing him and talked quietly as Harry allowed himself to drift.

"Potter." Harry snapped back to reality and realized that Poppy was gone. The lights were out and he struggled for a moment. "Harry Potter." Came the sharp voice. Harry jumped and looked towards Snape with wide eyes. Snape was surveying him with tired eyes. "You've been weeping for two hours; do you want me to get Poppy?" He asked calmly. Harry lifted his hand slowly and touched his dampened cheeks. He was hiccupping and wheezing but he was calming down.

"No." He said softly as he registered Snapes question. He reached over and grabbed some tissues cleaning his face with them before leaning back against the pillows. "Sorry if I kept you awake." He said tiredly he wasn't using his voice again he noted.

"I was already awake." Snape said uncomfortably. Harry nodded in understanding. There were nights when he couldn't sleep either, he just drifted in the darkness haunted by shadows and pain. When he turned his head towards Snape he noticed the man was watching him understanding what he was thinking.

"George Weasley might come to depend on you." Snape said after a moment. The comment startled Harry.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked with a frown. Snape sighed tiredly.

"It is a little known fact but he and his brother were more than just brothers, it is an even littler known fact that he and his brother shared the sort of relationship that you and Ronald Weasley shared." He said calmly. Harry frowned as he sorted through all that he'd just been told.

"Like…" He shook his head.

"George was the submissive in the relationship as were you I believe?" Snape said quirking an eyebrow. Harry was confused and it showed. Snape sighed heavily.

"Ronald took care of your needs did he not?" He said softly. "He told you what to do and you did it." Harry nodded slightly embarrassed now that he thought about it. He supposed that it wasn't normal by any ones standards. "You were at war Potter there is nothing to be ashamed of, its human nature to turn to each other for comfort no matter what form that comfort takes." Harry stared at Snape in mild shock and the man's thin lips quirked upwards slightly.

"Are you...?" he blushed slightly and looked away. "Sorry." He said.

"I doubt that I could ever submit to anyone again Potter." He said crisply. "In fact I may just have to find a submissive of my own to fix what's been broken." He said mildly before looking away uncomfortably. Harry swallowed feeling a prickling behind his eyes.

"After Hermione I could barely function." Harry said softly. "It was too much for me and for Ron, he started getting agitated, things had to be perfect or he'd blow a fuse." Harry said sitting up slightly. He could feel Snape looking at him again.

"Until you started following his orders." Snape said in understanding. Harry nodded.

"He couldn't control what happened to Hermione, but he could control what happened with us, he could control what we did and where we went. He could make sure that I was dressed warmly enough and that I ate enough even when there wasn't much food on hand. He also made sure that I didn't do anything stupid." Harry said with a small smile.

"Like run headlong into death as Dumbledore had intended?" Snape said quietly. Pain sparked through Harry.

"He was furious when he found out. He knew that I would have done it to if things had been different between us. But I was used to doing as he told me to do by then, I argued sure, but I knew he would win and so did he. He let me have my argument, let me yell and scream at him just to get it all out before telling me to sit down and shut up, so I did." Harry said softly.

"And now? Do you realize that you've given George Weasley several orders in the last few hours?" Snape said calmly. Harry frowned.

"He-"

"Needed you to?" Snape said knowingly. Harry nodded slowly. "Yet now there is no Ronald Weasley to give you what _you_ need Potter." Snape said softly. Harry shivered and clutched at his arms. He felt bare, void like he had since he'd woken up to realize that he wasn't dead and that Ron and Hermione were. "Potter listen to the sound of my voice, breathe, in, out, good, in, out-" Harry looked up at Snape with wide terrified eyes.

"Wha-"

"Breathe; then we will talk." Snape said calmly. Harry swallowed thickly and nodded focusing on breathing calming down. When he was calm Snape summoned a glass of water and floated it towards him. "Drink." He said softly. Harry took the glass with trembling hands and took a drink before realizing what he was doing. Slowly, hesitantly he looked up at Snape. "All of it." Harry hesitated briefly before drinking the rest and waiting silently watching Snape with wary eyes as he set down the glass.

"Why?" He rasped.

"You needed it." Snape said after a moment. Harry swallowed thickly. "I've been trying to take care of you since you started Hogwarts, up until now you have resisted me at every turn." Snape said idly. Harry gazed at him.

"I didn't trust you." He said quietly. Snape nodded.

"Exactly." He said as if it explained everything. "But you trust me now don't you?" Snape said smugly. Harry frowned but nodded. "I've had quite a bit of time to think things over Potter." He said after a moment. "While you have been sitting silently hiding away in your mind I have been reconstructing mine and deciding what I want." He said sitting up slowly. Harry fought the sudden urge to want to help. "I didn't expect to live through this war, in fact I had every intention of dying, yet here I am thanks to you and that blasted bird." He said wryly. "So let me tell you Harry Potter just what I want to do with my new found freedom." He said smirking slightly. Harry shrank back a bit at the look he was receiving.

"After we are well enough I am going to take you and we are going to find a home, we are both considerably wealthy so there should be no real difficulty finding something that we both- and Weasley if you so choose can agree on." He said smirking slightly at Harry's look of complete shock. "I am going to give you what you need Potter, I will give you what you need and what you want. I will ensure that you are happy because that and spending the rest of my life completing my research is what would make me happy." He said lifting his chin as if to dare Harry to deny him of this. Harry was still in shock, but his mind was supplying images for him, images of a peaceful life, of healing and moving on- an hour ago he didn't think such a thing was possible.

"Alright." Harry found himself saying before he could really think about it. He trusted Snape though, Snape had always taken care of him even when he fought it and he was tired of fighting.

"Rushing headlong into the unknown again." Snape muttered dryly. "It's a good thing I stepped in before you could do something wretchedly foolish and ruin not only yourself but Weasley as well. We will need to discuss this with him too you know." He said smiling slightly. Harry frowned but nodded. "Of course we will need to offer him something that you will never have now that you're mine." Snape said causing a shiver to race down his spine.

"What's that?" Harry asked warily. Snape smirked.

"A way out."

Harry gulped.


End file.
